MTL - She Shocked the World After Marrying a Repairman - Chapter 301 : The intern became a regular employee

Every Thursday at midnight, tune the FM button. Behind a blank hiss, maybe you will hear a broadcast like this: “Welcome to Midnight Radio Station “Thriller Night Talk”. This is the anchor Bei Quan. Please tell us about your story; no matter how bizarre it is.”

The rich second-generation Wei Fuyuan broke up with his family and was cut off from his financial source. He accidentally broke into a broadcasting studio to apply for a part-time job.

Wei Fuyuan: This place is small and shabby. The front desk lady is so fierce and her assistant is a three-year-old child laborer?? Are you really a regular company!

Bei Quan: During the internship period, the monthly salary is 7800 Yuan, including three meals and accommodation. Do you want it or not?

Wei Fuyuan : I’ll do it if I can live next door to you!

On the first night at work, Master Wei found out that this company called Sāntúchuān was more irregular than he thought.

Colleagues felt that there were ghosts in the world, and the audience said that they were dead, and they had to follow the poisonous anchor. The crime scene…

Wei Fuyuan : Wait, isn’t this the job of the police?!

Bei Quan: Look over there, the ghost is here.

Wei Fuyuan: Ah, ah, don’t come near me! The young master doesn’t like women’s ghosts. Don’t get me… Eat my righteous face-breaking fist!

What you see may not be true, and what you hear may not be true.

The truth and falsity interweaved between the story, the stand-in for a crime they didn’t, betrayal after betrayal, money and love…

Pursue the mystery, punish evil and promote good

This is the Thrilling Night talk for you—

Don’t be afraid.

[Wei Fuyuan the rich second generation born with aura to attack x mysterious poisonous tongue Bei Quan]

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- Description from Uukanshu translation

Shao Xian went back in time to when he was ten years old and met his pitiful old enemy. He wanted to personally train him so that when the other grew up, he wouldn’t turn against him.

But he didn’t expect that this old enemy would turn sweet and sticky after being taken care of.

It was just that this little sweet cake was too insecure and often, golden beads of tears would drip.

As soon as he cried, Shao Xian was helpless, and of course, he would want to give him everything.

—

On the way to an auction, Shao Xian died in a car accident.

Before he died, he thought, Fu Baizhou must be very pleased without him being present to mix things up.

After all, in Yan City, Fu Baizhou shocked everyone with a name of being cruel and ruthless.

Only one person dared to confront him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was wearing a custom suit, reexperiencing his tenth birthday.

He saw a dirty little boy being ridden on like a horse. He suddenly remembered the rumors that had been circulating widely in his previous life. It was about the tragic childhood of a ruthless man surnamed Fu.

- Description from Novelupdates

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”